After breakfast, we took a drive up the coast to spend the day in Santa Barbara. The weather was gorgeous, the kind you only find in Southern California in late summer. I remember wishing we had rented a convertible, so I could feel the sun on my face and the wind rushing through my hair. I wanted that feeling of being young and carefree and alive, the way I always felt with Vance. He was back to normal mostly, although he did seem a little quieter than usual. I pushed any concerns I had to the side and kept up a constant stream of chatter, while he just smiled and nodded, seemingly entertained by my enthusiasm for the day ahead of us.
We spent our time at Stearns Wharf, shopping, visiting the Sea Center, even doing a little fishing at the edge of the wharf. We didn’t catch anything, but we had a good time trying. It was nice just being out in the fresh sea air, in a beautiful and peaceful setting, enjoying our time together. When the sun set, we drove downtown to a beautiful Mexican restaurant. It was absolutely gorgeous inside, with antiqued beige walls, old world woodworking, wrought iron railings surrounding the second floor, terra-cotta colored curtain panels with golden sheers, and these charming star-lights dangling from the ceiling. We chose to sit at their raw bar, sampling their fresh ceviche, fish and oysters and enjoying margaritas with premium tequila. We exchanged gifts; Vance gave me a beautiful necklace with a teardrop diamond pendant while I gave him a TAG Heuer watch I had seen him eyeballing online. It wasn’t an elaborate celebration of our anniversary by any stretch of the imagination, but it was very much like our wedding. Quiet and intimate, romantic and loving. It was a relaxing time spent together, just enjoying each other’s company.
As we were leaving the restaurant, hand in hand, I suggested we prolong the evening just a little bit more by taking a short walk down the block enjoying the warm night air. Vance smiled indulgently at me and led me toward the sidewalk. Just before we reached it, he seemed to stumble over something. It was dark, and the streetlights didn’t shine well at the corner of the building where we were walking so I couldn’t see what tripped him. All I knew was we were walking one moment and then next he was tumbling forward. He let go of my hand when he started to go down, but he didn’t have time to get his own fully under him before he hit ground. While his right hand helped break some of the fall and kept his face from hitting the ground, his left hand was twisted somewhat awkwardly beneath him.
I rushed to his side and helped him roll over into a sitting position. He immediately cradled his left wrist in his right palm, confirming my fears that he had injured it, but looked up at me rather sheepishly. “Well… there goes any hope I had for impressing my lady tonight.”
Not really in the joking mood, I said. “Hush. This lady’s been impressed with you for ages. What happened? Was there something on the walkway? Should I go move it so no one else trips? They really need better lighting out here. Once we get you on your feet, I’m going to go have a chat with the manager.”
He struggled to get to up, with me doing very little in the way of actually helping him by holding onto his elbow. “Relax, Mimi. You don’t have to chew anyone out. I just tripped over my own two feet.”
“You what?” I asked incredulously. “Is your shoe untied?”
He looked down, checking to be sure. “Nope, both appear to be tied tight. It seems my big feet have become a drawback for once,” he joked.
I smacked him in the arm out of habit, forgetting about his injured wrist, and he winced.
“Oh! Sorry! Sorry!” I exclaimed. “I totally forgot, what with your witty bone still intact and all. Is it very bad?”
“I think I’m going to need an x-ray, actually. I can’t move it at all. I’ve been trying to test it while we’ve been standing here, but I just can’t. It also hurts like hell.”
“Okay, okay. Where are your keys? I’ll get us to the closest hospital.”
After fishing the keys out of his right pocket, I got us to the car and found the nearest hospital on my phone. After programming the address into the car’s GPS system, I got us there in no time flat. I may or may not have broken a few traffic laws in the process.
“Jesus, Mimi.” Vance griped as I help him out of the car. “I have what might be a broken wrist. My water didn’t break. You didn’t have to run that red light or drive sixty-five miles an hour in a thirty-five mile an hour zone.”
“Forgive me if I don’t want you to be in pain any longer than you have to be,” I snapped. “Now quit complaining like a little girl while I try to find you a wheel chair.”
I felt his good hand on my arm pulling me back as I started to walk ahead of him and heard his soft laughter. “Will you listen to yourself? Mimi, I injured my wrist. My legs are fine. My back is fine. I didn’t hit my head. I’m quite sure it’s okay if I walk into the emergency room under my own power. You’re awfully close to panicking for someone who forgot I was injured only a little while ago.” He looked at me with amusement.
I huffed out a breath and scrubbed a hand over my face. “Alright. So maybe I feel a little guilty as well as concerned. Fine, Conan. Let’s get you inside and see what kind of damage you’ve done.”
After a few x-rays, several hours of waiting and one visit from the doctor later, Vance was fitted with a cast because he fractured his wrist. He was given some pain medication and told to follow up with an orthopedist the following week. He also got a copy of his x-rays on a handy CD to provide to his doctor.
It was very late by the time we made it home. I helped Vance get out of his clothes and after feeding him some of his pain meds, we snuggled up to go to sleep. Just as I was about to drift off, I heard Vance whisper to me, “Happy anniversary, Mimi. Despite its crappy ending, I was still wouldn’t change a thing about our day.”
I snuggled even closer to him, resting my head in the crook between his shoulder and neck, relieved that although the night had ended in a not-so-stellar way, everything seemed to be back to normal and our day was, indeed, lovely.
Chapter Ten
Vance’s wrist healed fairly quickly, since it wasn’t his dominant arm that was injured. Our daily routines went on as usual for the most part, although Vance began coming home from work later and later. He seemed distracted all the time, but blamed a new deal at work taking up a lot of his time and attention. He explained he had been given a greater role in this particular case than he normally played, and he felt it was a good sign for his future with the firm. I did my best to be excited for him and supportive of his new duties, but the simple truth was I missed him. It was no fun spending so much time alone, so I used the time to reach out to Grace, Liz and Jessica, since I had neglected them for the better part of the last year.
One Friday night in December, I made plans to meet the girls after work for happy hour at a local chain restaurant. I sent Vance a text message, letting him know I’d be home around nine, in case he got home before I did.
Everyone was seated around a high table on stools in the bar area when I arrived. As I took a seat and shrugged out of my coat, Liz remarked, “It’s great to see you, Mimi. I haven’t seen you since your reception last year. You look fantastic.”
Jessica nodded. “It’s probably been about the same amount of time for me, too.”
“I know. It’s been crazy, trying to get settled in at Vance’s place, getting used to living with another person—“
“All the fantastic sex. We know, we know.” Grace interjected, rolling her eyes. She was always the outspoken one in our group. We constantly teased her about having no filters, whatever came up, came out. Any time spent in her company was enlightening in the inner workings of Grace’s mind, as well as highly entertaining.
The waitress came by to take my drink order. Remembering my anniversary dinner, I ordered a margarita in favor of my usual dirty martini, while the girls ordered another round of their respective drinks.
After she left, the girls descended upon me. “So, you know that’s why we were excited you finally wanted to get together. We’ve just been waiting for you to c
ome up for air to tell us all about Vance’s skills in the bedroom.” Grace said.
I looked at the three eager faces staring expectantly at me; rabid she-devils wrapped in cashmere sweaters. You’d think I’d married a well-known porn star or something.
“How heartwarming to know that feeding your dirty minds takes precedence over rekindling our long term friendships. Here I thought you might have missed me as much as I missed you three gossipy tarts.”
“Yeah, yeah, we missed you too.” Jessica said waving her hand back and forth. Then, without warning, she slammed it down on the surface of the table, making the empty glasses jump. “Now give us the goods!” Jessica was almost as bad as Grace, although she was a little more diplomatic most of the time. Unless the topic at hand was sex. In that case, she wanted a complete tell-all of every detail, from the first kiss to the last gasp of passion.
“Oh my god, Sally Stresscase! Settle down!” I barked back at her. “Jesus. What am I supposed to do, just start describing our sex life from the first time we did it through now? Because if that’s the case, we’re going to be here a really long fucking time. We do it a lot. A LOT.”
“Now that’s more like it!” Jessica nudged Grace with her elbow and she nodded encouragingly me at me.
I buried my face in my hands and just shook my head back and forth. I had a feeling it was going to be a very long night. Eventually, the girls backed off and we had a good time catching up - after I told them about Vance’s sex ninja skills and the stealth orgasms, of course. That took up a good hour’s worth of conversation time. Liz, as usual, just sat there listening raptly, but making very little comment. She was the quiet one in our group, always carefully observing everyone, taking note of everything going on around her. She rarely said much, but when she did, it was usually something thoughtful and profound.
We had been laughing and talking for another hour or two and were in the middle of a story about one of Jessica’s recent dating disasters when the sound of Vance’s ringtone interrupted the conversation. I pulled the phone out of my bag and answered, hoping he was calling to tell me he was already home.
“Hi sweetheart!” I began. “Are you—“
“Where are you?” He cut me off sharply. “You said you’d be home by nine.”
I pulled the phone from my ear to look at the time and saw that it was nine-ten.
“I’m sorry, Vance. I’m still out with the girls. I’ll just wrap things up here and will be home in about an hour.”
“No, you will say goodbye as soon as we hang up and you will be home within twenty minutes. No excuses, Mimi. I don’t appreciate being taken for granted. I made sure to be home when you said you’d be back, and you couldn’t be bothered to even call to say you’d be late. Now at least do me the courtesy of coming home right away.” The line fell silent before I could say another word.
I sat there for a moment, completely flabbergasted. The expression on my face must have told a story, because there was a gentle touch on my arm before I heard Liz’ soft voice asking, “Mimi, is everything okay?”
I looked down at her hand before bringing my eyes to her face. She was looking at me with concern in her gaze, but I was so shell shocked, I could only stare back at her for a moment. Finally, I shook it off.
“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine. That was Vance. He needs me to come home. I’m not sure why, but he made it sound pretty important.” I fumbled for words that would explain my need to leave right away, but not cause any undue concern. “He probably just needs my help finding some document for work. I did some straightening up in his office the other day and must have disturbed some organized chaos.”
Grace laughed good-naturedly. “Well, good luck finding whatever it is. I hope you didn’t do too much damage. I know how those carefully disorganized piles are. My office is full of them.”
We exchanged hugs and promises to meet more regularly. Once out of their direct sight, I practically ran from the restaurant to my car. Watching the time all the way home, I made it from the parking lot to our front door in fifteen minutes.
I entered the house with a stomach full of knots. I shut the door quietly behind me and placed my purse and keys on the table near the door. Removing my coat, I walked into the living room and placed it over the back of the sofa. The room was empty, so I wandered into the kitchen thinking maybe I’d find him there. It, too, was empty. I wandered through the entire house, finding every room the same way. Finally, I found him on the back patio, laying back in a lounge chair, a lit cigar in one hand and glass of scotch in the other. He had removed his coat and tie, his shirt was unbuttoned at the throat and his sleeves were rolled up. His shoes were nowhere in sight, but he still had his socks on. He didn’t even turn to look at me as I approached.
“Aren’t you cold out here?” I asked, rubbing my arms against the chill.
“I’m fine,” he answered tersely. “Why didn’t you call, Mimi?”
“We just got to talking and I didn’t notice how late it had gotten. I’m sorry, Vance. I didn’t think you’d be waiting for me.”
He turned his head and looked at me with pure venom pouring from his eyes.
“Don’t worry. Next time, I won’t be.”
I gasped at the hatred coming off him. “Vance, I really am sorry. It was an honest mistake. I don’t quite understand why you’re so upset with me. It could have happened to anyone. Besides, these days I never know when you’ll be home. I didn’t think I had a reason to be overly concerned with watching the time.”
Vance jumped to his feet and gestured at me angrily with his cigar. Smoke wafted in front of my face, causing me to choke slightly. “Don’t try to turn this around on me. You know I’ve been working my ass off on this deal. Do you think I like stumbling in at all hours of the night, after working sixteen-hour days, never stopping for a break, eating takeout at my desk, never seeing you, never talking to you, working weekends, coming home dropping into our bed exhausted, only to get up the next morning and do it all over again? Do you? Then, the one night I manage to make it home at a fairly decent time, I come home to an empty house after you specifically sent me a message saying you would be here!”
With every angry sentence, he took a step forward, backing me across the patio up against the house. Finally, with my back against the wall, he just stood there staring at me with his chest heaving, his hand gripped around his glass of scotch so hard I feared it might shatter in his hand.
He tilted the glass to his lips and drained it dry of the remaining amber fluid, then angrily threw it at the wall by my feet. I jumped, I was so startled by the action. He smirked as he took a deep puff on his cigar, before blowing it in my direction then turning and walking inside the house. Even in my confused and frightened state, I worried he might get glass shards in his feet since he didn’t have shoes on.
I waited outside until I could no longer hear sounds coming from inside the house. I let myself in through the sliding glass door and retrieved a broom and dustpan from the closet in the kitchen and took them to the patio to clean up the mess. Once that was done, I gingerly approached our bedroom to change for bed. He was in there, already changed into a pair of lounge pants and nothing else. He was leaning back against the headboard, staring at the wall. He no longer looked angry. In fact, his expression was… blank. I wanted to try to talk to him, but thought it was better not to poke the bear. I would wait until morning to approach him and try to smooth things over.
I silently changed into my pajamas and headed for the spare room. I thought a night apart would be best. I was afraid of the depth of his anger, confused by it since I felt he was completely overreacting, and if I were totally honest I was angry at the injustice of it all. I hadn’t meant to be thoughtless or take him for granted. It was one simple mistake, one time! If anyone was taken for granted, it was me! How often did he come home late from work? Every night, and he never called to let me know what time to expect him. Ever.
I took another look at him before leav
ing the room, but he still sat there, staring at the wall. It wasn’t as if he were ignoring me, but as if he were completely unaware of my presence. I wished I could be just as indifferent. I shook my head and slipped from the room.
I passed the night tossing and turning. I couldn’t sleep for replaying the entire scene from the time I entered the house until I went to bed. It was so unlike Vance. It was like the time we went to the charity event for his firm, only much worse. At the gala, he was just a dick. Last night, he was something else entirely. I wondered if Vance would remember this behavior tomorrow, or if it would be like last time. I was unable to sleep whatsoever for all the thoughts running through my head.
The following morning, I got up and made a cup of coffee using our single-cup brewing machine. I thanked God for the invention because if I’d had to wait for an entire pot to brew, I might have lost my mind. I was sitting at the table, sipping my first cup, when Vance wandered in. I did my best to ignore him, feeling more anger at him than anything, but he walked up to stand opposite me at the table and waited for me to look up at him. I continued to ignore him through a few more sips of coffee, but finally looked up to meet his eyes. He looked down at me with an expression of remorse so strong, I knew not only did he remember, he heavily regretted how he had acted. I simply looked away and went back to sipping my coffee.
He sighed softly and moved to the coffee machine and made his own cup. After he had his drink, he came back and sat down across from me, waiting for me to look at him again. I finished my cup of coffee and went to prepare another. I was feeling just childish enough to make him suffer for a little while. I made sure to take my time adding cream and sugar, then stirring it well to make sure it was mixed just right. Finally, I returned to the table and sat with my arms crossed, waiting for him to begin whatever he wanted to tell to me.
Shattered Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 1) Page 15
